


Like Hell

by romeoandjulietyouwish



Series: Lis Writes 9-1-1 [1]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Buttercup is a good dog, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Good Dad Owen Strand, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23933806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romeoandjulietyouwish/pseuds/romeoandjulietyouwish
Summary: Buttercup alerts Owen of TK having a panic attack
Relationships: Owen Strand & TK Strand
Series: Lis Writes 9-1-1 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725208
Comments: 13
Kudos: 299





	Like Hell

**Author's Note:**

> My first 9-1-1 fic! woot woot! I binged both shows in a week and I have fallen in love oh my lord.

Owen wakes up to something tugging on his sleeve. He tiredly bats it away. They’re halfway through a 24-hour shift, he needs sleep where he can get it before the alarm inevitably blares. The last call took a toll on everyone so Owen sent the team to bed as soon as they got back to the station. 

He groans tiredly and pulls the blanket over his head. To his dismay, the tugging moves to his pillow and seems to only get worse. Owen cracks his eyes open to see Buttercup in front of him, pulling on his sleeve. He tries to roll away from the dog, but he starts whining and comes to the other side of the bed, nudging at Owen’s hand.

“What is it?” Owen scratches Buttercup’s head, but that’s not what the dog wants as he starts tugging on his sleeve again. “Okay, okay,” Owen concedes, “I’ll come with you.” He lifts himself to his feet, quickly shoving on his shoes. Owen carefully navigates the dark room and lets the dog lead him out of the bunk room. 

Buttercup, looking over his shoulder every few seconds, takes Owen down the stairs and to the kitchen. Owen yawns, plodding tiredly behind. Once in the kitchen, his whining increases enormously and he runs around the island, Owen follows him nervously, not knowing what to expect. 

On the floor of the kitchen is TK. His back is against the cabinets, head tilted back. He seems to be gasping for breath, TK’s forehead is sweaty. Buttercup nudges his hand, but TK pushes the dog away, hands coving his face as he tries to breathe.

“TK!” Owen exclaims. He is by his son’s side in an instant. He pulls TK so that he’s lean into his arms, encircling the boy in a hug. TK’s had panic attacks for years, but he hasn’t had one since they moved to Texas. 

“Breathe with me,” Owen tells him softly. He tucks TK’s head against his chest. “You’re okay, we’re at the station. It’s just you and me here,” Buttercup whines, Owen chuckles, “and Buttercup.” Owen mimes taking a deep breath, TK tries to follow, but his lungs don’t take in any air. “Come on, TK,” Owen urges, “in through your nose. We’re safe here. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.” TK nods in understanding and, to Owen’s relief, manages to take a deep breath. “Just like that,” he praises, “you’re doing so good.” 

Four or so minutes later of slow breathing and comforting words, TK lifts his head from his dad’s shoulders, his eyes red. Owen’s heart breaks a little for his son as he pulls him into a hug. “Are you okay?” Owen asks quietly. 

TK nods, “I think so.” He doesn’t say anything more, just adjusts his head so that it’s resting over his dad’s head, his strong heartbeat echoing in TK’s ears. Owen smiles. Ever since TK was a little baby he’s always comforted himself by listening to his father’s heartbeat. When TK had nightmares, it would be the only thing that could get him to fall asleep again. Years later, Owen is glad to see that the sounds still gives his son comfort.

Running his hand across TK’s back, Owen has to ask, “What happened?” 

TK looks down, embarrassed, “Uh, I couldn’t sleep after that last call-” The team had been called to a car wreck and they had been able to rescue the little girl in the back seat, but her dad driving the car was DOA. “-so I wanted to get some tea to help me fall asleep, but then I heard a plane fly low overhead and I-” Owen rubs TK’s back as he cuts himself off. “All I could think about was 9/11 and how I almost lost you. I started freaking out and I couldn’t breathe, I told Buttercup to get you and…you know the rest.” TK sits up, pulling out of Owen’s arms, “It’s so stupid.” 

Owen frowns and takes his son’s hands in his own, “It’s not stupid.”

“No, dad, it is,” TK insists. “I wasn’t even there. I was miles away hearing about it on the news. It shouldn’t affect me like this, not when so many other people were actually there and lost their lives.” 

“TK, it doesn’t matter if you were there or not, it was traumatic for a lot of people,” Owen squeezes his shoulder. “You were seven years old and you watched me walk into a collapsing building, not knowing whether I would come home or not. That’s terrifying.” TK leans his head on his dad’s shoulder. 

After a moment TK has the strength to say, “I don’t want you to die, dad,” his voice sounds incredibly young. “I can’t be alone. And-and-and you could die at any moment from this stupid cancer or on a call and it’s…” 

“It’s scary,” Owen finishes for him. “I know, and I feel the same about you.” He sighs, “When you told me you wanted to join my station, I almost said no. Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to send you into these life or death situations we put ourselves in every day. But I also knew that if you were at my station it would be easy for me to protect you and to take care of you every day. I convinced myself that I could do it.” Owen laughs humourlessly. “It never gets any easier, watching my son put his life on the line to save others, but I have to because you are so strong and I know that you have a good head on your shoulders.” TK smiles. 

“I want to tell you that I will come home to you every night,” Owen continues, “but we both know neither of us can promise that.” TK nods sadly. “Look at me,” Owen puts a hand on TK’s cheek and his son looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “What we can promise each other is to fight like hell to come home at the end of the day. Okay?” 

TK nods and hugs his dad tightly, “Thank you.” 

Owen holds him back just as tight, “Of course.” Buttercup, who had been quietly watching the exchange, now nudges TK’s hand with his wet nose. TK laughs and pulls out of the hug so he can pet him. 

“Thank you, Buttercup,” TK praises. 

“Such a good boy,” Owen says, rubbing his side. He looks up at his son, “Are you okay?”

TK nods, wiping away the last of his tears, “I think so.” 

“Good,” Owen rubs his arm. “Now why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest, I don’t want you dead on your feet for the next call.” 

TK, knowing his dad is right, pulls himself to his feet and walks side by side with Owen back upstairs, Buttercup following at their heels. 

“Goodnight, TK.” Owen says as he tucks himself back into his bed.

“Goodnight, dad.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make my day :)
> 
> Tumblr- @evanbuckley-heartofgold

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Heartbeats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006976) by [McRaider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider)




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